Chapter 113

Sam Smith and the militia thundered down upon us soon thereafter. While the venomous man wasted time and breath mouthing imprecations at me, another place went up in flames. A distant towering black plume on the other side of the Yanube immediately drew the captain and his men south. The smoke had seemed to be in the general vicinity of Smith’s own farm.

Although it distressed me another family had been attacked, I breathed a bit easier. By all the laws of logic, Dull Lance should have ridden for the sanctuary of the nearby Little Islands after this latest raid. As James had noted, the mountains were a much larger haven than the Trickling Water Badlands.